House of Heart by Holly Rene Hunter (readnow TXT) 📖

 

Metamorphosis

 

Stars cast stilettos at our landscape.

Fingers flurry down your body, a rosary.

Rising beneath you, a thousand butterflies.

Hourglass

 

The Hourglass

 

Dip your fingers in an ocean of light.

Fill you hand with pearls,

tiny moons in outstretched hands,

a remembrance of our open palms

sifting silt of transparent hours,

powerless to reverse the passing

 hours

 

 

 

The Hardest Part

 

The Hardest Part 

 

 

I can hear a thousand heartbeats

if the crickets are quiet. They have

hearts too,  every living thing

quivering like a leaf in a thunderstorm

blood whooshing through the vessel

that runs behind the breast bone

beats tripping over beats to that

place where  longing waits.

 

Rosewood and Lavendar

 

Blushed with moon glow

the hours pass slowly,

a lingering scent of rosewood,

fading footsteps at the gate.

She  snuffs out the candles

flickering on the nightstand

saving their remnants for

another day.

With the  elegant hands of

a fragile ballerina

she gathers her scarves and  

stores them away.  

Opening windows

to a room that belongs

to no one, she waits.

 

 

Out of Body

 

 

 Our  glasses are half empty,  whiskey the color of your eyes when you are aroused.   I fixate on the whir of the overhead fan. When you reach for me  I practice my “out of body” until my eyes close.    You ensnare me with naivety,  expose my liability. It is so easy to distract you, tossing back the sheets we make love and turn away. Silently sharing your  hand rolled cigarette we watch the curls of smoke rise and rip apart in the blades.    I vow to  not meet again  but your eyes are stardust and my heart is a red sports car racing along a razor’s edge.

Imprint

Text: Holly R. Hunter
Images: All images borrowed from google unless otherwise noted
Editing: Holly R. Hunter
Publication Date: 01-13-2013

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Dedicated to Robert